


Maid In Heaven

by Spinning_In_Infinity



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cosplay, Established Relationship, Love, M/M, Peter likes it more than he thought he would, SEX glorious SEX, just a little one shot I wrote at midnight, light dusting of master/servant kink, maid's costume
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 21:30:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20571212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinning_In_Infinity/pseuds/Spinning_In_Infinity
Summary: Peter has promised Wade he'll do anything he wants for his birthday, but he wasn't expecting THIS kind of play.orPeter wears a French maid's uniform and Wade fucks the hell out of him for it. <3 Just a smutty little one-shot.





	Maid In Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from the manga of the same name by Hisami Shimada - check it out, it's sexy as hell. 
> 
> For those of you kindly and patiently waiting for updates on my main fics, I am SO SORRY I have kept you waiting so long! I've been on something of a hiatus what with getting married and general life getting in the way, but I'm back and ready to rumble again! This was kind of a gateway back into writing, so I really hope you like it!

“You have _got_ to be kidding.”

Peter stared, horrified, at the excess of black and white ruffles spilling from the box in his hands. He glanced at Wade, who was lying on the bed in full suit, and could practically hear the glee in his smile beneath the mask.

“Baby boy,” he said, “what did you promise that little girl last week? The one in the burning building?”

Peter knew where this was going but obliged, nonetheless. “That everything was going to be okay, and that I’d get her out.”

“Exactly, and did you keep that promise?”

“Yes . . .”

“Because Spider-Man _always_ keeps his promises, doesn’t he?”

Peter sighed. “Yes.”

“And pray tell what you _promised_ me, when I was sucking your sweet little joystick in that alley in Brooklyn?”

Peter’s face flamed. They’d been dating for just over two months now, since he turned eighteen, but he was still growing accustomed to Wade’s ‘special’ way with words.

“That I’d . . .” he glanced down at the silk monstrosity. “I’d do whatever you wanted for your birthday.”

“And today is . . .?”

With a frustrated growl, Peter tugged away the remaining packaging and held up the ridiculous garment. A tight-fitting black dress with a white lace collar, a ruffled apron, knee-high stockings, and a— wait, what the hell was that? A ring of lace and elastic with a small black bow sewn into it.

“That goes around your thigh,” Wade said in a tone of devilish glee thinly veiled with childish delight.

“Why?” Peter stretched the garter around his fingers.

“Because it’s HAWT,” Wade pulled off his mask, brown eyes gleaming with anticipation, that familiar shit-eating grin plastered across his pock-marked face.

“You’re a demon, you know that, right?” Peter stalked to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

“Feel free to sell me your soul,” Wade called after.

As Peter stripped off his casual jeans and sweater, he wondered if the other Avengers had to put up with this kind of shit from their partners. He briefly considered Tony and Pepper and came to the conclusion that Pepper was far more likely to bully the great Iron Man into this kind of outfit than vice versa. The idea of Tony in a maid’s uniform gave him momentary amusement before he had to pull the lacy black panties up his thighs. He had to admit, the silk wasn’t an unpleasant sensation against his genitals, and he glanced in the mirror to inspect the effect they had on his appearance. The ruffled edges cupped his buttocks perfectly, making them look rounder, and he almost found himself wishing he had time to trim the dark curly hairs poking out at the front. Unsure of what order these were supposed to be donned, he tugged the black dress on over his head. It clung to the gentle curve of his waist like a second skin of silk, and he noticed that the top was as equally fitted – there were no hollows in the fabric where breasts might have been expected to fill. Wade had obviously purchased this from a specialist outlet.

He tied the frilly white apron around his waist and rummaged in the box to find any spare parts he’d missed. He unearthed a pair of delicate white fishnet gloves, a length of black ribbon which he presumed was intended for tying around his neck, and a strange rectangle of white fabric, trimmed with lace, attached to an Alice band to wear on his head. He gently rolled the stockings up his legs, mimicking the method he’d seen Aunt May do, and finally secured the garter around his left thigh. Opening the second bag Wade had given him, he found a pair of patent black high-heeled shoes, which fit him surprisingly well and made his legs look about four inches longer.

He was starting to understand why Wade had had his heart so set on this.

“Oh, poopsikins!” the merc in question cooed from the other room. “Are you ready for me?”

“One second,” Peter called through the door, taking one last look at himself in the mirror. He felt . . . pretty.

The first thing he saw when he opened the door was Wade, now stark naked on the bed, his mask concealing a sizeable bulge at his groin. Peter swore he could see it visibly grow bigger just as Wade’s eyes took him in.

“Jesus Christ, baby,” he said, his jovial voice low and intense. Peter felt a shiver down his spine, like he always experienced when Wade’s mood shifted to this level. “You look . . . _delicious_.” He grinned wolfishly and made a twirling motion with his forefinger. “Show me the goods, honeybun.”

Peter turned on the spot, trying not to stumble in his new heels. He appreciated the swish of the skirt around his thighs. By the time he turned a full 360, Wade was raised up onto his knees, iron-hard erection fully revealed. Peter decided to take the initiative.

“Do you like it . . . sir?” he asked, trying not to laugh as Wade’s eyes widened like a kid in a candy shop.

“Get. Over. Here.” His voice was deep, soaked with lust, and there was no universe in which Peter would not have obeyed. As he approached, Wade lifted a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth’s, still sitting on the bedside table from where they’d had breakfast in bed that morning, and poured a thick stream from the centre of his chest. Peter watched it slide gelatinously down the older man’s stomach and onto his erect cock, droplets spilling onto the bed-sheets.

“I’ve got a mess I need cleaning up,” he said. His eyes were predatorily fixed on Peter’s face, the bulging muscles in his arms tensing as Peter crawled onto the bed, his skirt riding up over his lace panties. He knelt in a puddle of the syrup, but Wade didn’t make any comment or even seem to care. Peter guessed he’d be far dirtier than this before Wade was through with him.

Keeping his ass facing pertly upwards, he lowered his eager tongue to the sugary mess adorning Wade’s torso, taking his time in lapping up every drop, leaving a thin film of sticky sweetness on his boyfriend’s mottled skin. Finally, he lavished tiny licks up the length of Wade’s cock, slavering it with his saliva, When he reached the head, he dove in quickly, taking Wade almost to the hilt inside his mouth. Wade groaned and tangled his fingers in the young man’s hair, dislodging the lace cap and throwing it aside. Leaning forward, he lubed up two of his fingers with his own spit and began to toy with the puckered hole through the silk of Peter’s panties. Peter hummed around his dick, anticipating what was coming next, and took Wade further into his throat, the tip of his tongue tickling the root. Thumbing the lace aside, Wade pushed the tip of his forefinger into Peter’s hole, relishing the warm tightness, the way Peter’s body seemed to pull him in, inviting more. The thickness of his whole finger was enough to make his young lover squirm, the introduction of a second making him mewl in sweet discomfort. Wade pumped his fingers in and out of Peter’s asshole, still so tight even after weeks of desperate fucking, and closed his eyes at the bliss of his cockhead nudging the back of Peter’s throat. It felt _so_ good, but he didn’t want to cum this way; not today. He pulled his fingers apart to form a narrow peace sign, stretching Peter’s muscles enough that there needn’t be any delay. Peter winced and sighed passionately, his warm breath tickling Wade’s cock and making him shiver.

“How do you want me, sir?” Wade’s little slave asked, his pretty lips flushed and damp from their exertions.

“On your back,” Wade said. Peter was happy – he liked to see Wade’s face when he came.

Rolling over on the bed, Peter wriggled into position, Wade’s strong hands positioning his legs towards the ceiling, ankles resting on his broad shoulders. Peter let his hands fall onto the sheets, either side of his head, smiling coyly up at Wade as his panties were swiftly removed.

“Please, sir,” he whispered. “I need you.”

“What do you need, baby boy?” Wade moaned huskily, lining his cock up against Peter’s waiting hole. “Tell me.”

Peter closed his eyes as he felt the head of Wade’s dick just breaching him, his muscles already preparing to accommodate the welcome intrusion. “Fuck me,” he breathed. “I need you to fuck me hard, sir, please . . .”

With a grunt, Wade pushed himself fully inside Peter’s body and the young hero cried out in pain and rapture. Wade paused long enough to stop seeing stars and braced himself against the bed, arms locked straight. His skirt and apron were bunched at his waist, the material creased, the black stilettos looking alien next to his familiar view of Wade’s face. He wiggled his ankles, the patent leather catching the light, and giggled.

“Something funny?” Wade grinned evilly and withdrew his hips before slamming them forward, his thighs slapping against Peter’s firm buttocks.

“N-no, sir,” Peter shook his head, gasping for air as Wade began pounding him in earnest. “Oh God, fuck . . . fuck me . . . harder . . . please!”

“Such a needy little slut,” Wade chuckled, planting a kiss on Peter’s calf. “You want my cock that badly, huh?”

“Uh-huh!” Peter started jerking his hips forward to meet Wade’s merciless thrusts, conscious of a tear in the fabric of one of his stockings and unable to care. “Fuck, Wade, you’re so hard!”

“Always for you, baby.” Wade grabbed a handful of Peter’s dress and apron, tugging them upwards to reveal his smooth, flat stomach. He raked his thumb against the boy’s nipples, teasing them in the way he knew drove Peter crazy. The friction of Peter’s asshole against his cock was enough to drive _him_ insane, too, if it were possible for the terminally crazy to get any worse.

He slid his hands down Peter’s calves to the crooks of his knees, spreading his legs and tautening his hole, worshipping the sight of that tiny hole stretched around his cock, more than four times its usual size. It shouldn’t have been possible for such a tight body to be pushed to these limits and Peter still be gasping and moaning with pure ecstasy. Wade wasn’t going to last much longer. He would ravage his beautiful boy many more times that night, but for now he wanted to shoot his load deep inside him, to mark his territory like an animal.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes!” Peter clasped his hands at the back of Wade’s neck and pulled him down for a fiery kiss, his supple body almost bent in half as Wade continued to slam into him, the sensual sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and Wade’s growling breaths thick and heavy in his ears. “Cum in me . . . fill me up . . .”

Wade took hold of Peter’s semi-hard cock and coaxed it into rigidity. He jerked him off with such speed that Peter could feel his orgasm growing within moments, combined with the repeated pounding of his prostate and the pure pleasure he felt at the knowledge that it was Wade’s cock inside him, Wade who would soon be marking him in such a primal way. Every time was as thrilling as the first one.

It took ten more thrusts for Wade’s entire body to lock in a spasm of pure, unbridled bliss as he came inside Peter. Peter gasped as he felt the thick, warm fluid spilling deep up in his body – the very essence of Wade. He never wanted anyone else to cum inside him; he was a vessel for Wade’s passions only, the man he loved. He quickly followed Wade’s example and splashed long ropes of his own cum across his stomach and chest.

Wade fell against him, both their chests heaving, cock still half-hard inside his contracting hole.

“Fuck, baby boy,” Wade sucked and licked at the crook of Peter’s neck, the pale skin quickly blooming with tokens of his affections. “If I’m a demon, you’re a goddamn angel.”

Peter grinned at the cheesy line and nuzzled into Wade’s shoulder. He could feel the cum spilling out as his cock softened inside him, and breathed in the smell of Wade’s skin. He was crazy, unpredictable, and overeager as a puppy at Christmas, but fuck if he didn’t love every regenerating atom of him.

“I think we may have ruined the dress,” he said, plucking at a stained corner of his skirt.

“I have others,” Wade shrugged.

“Huh?” Peter blinked.

“Fuck yeah,” Wade grinned, popping a kiss on the tip of his nose. “So, Spider-Man – how d’you feel about nurse uniforms . . .?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Brief note - NEVER use anything sugar-based as lube, and if you use it for oral sex, make sure it's cleaned off properly before you stick in anywhere else. This has been a fanfic PSA sponsored by Wade Wilson's mighty penis.


End file.
